Cersei Lannister and the mad Targaryens be damned. Renly was not as naive as Margaery thought him. He knew as well as she the persistence and insidiousness of rumor and scandal. He had been his brother’s Master of Laws, and he heard as well as any man the whispers and supposition that flowed as freely as the ale in most taverns and sinks around King’s Landing. He was neither blind nor deaf. That didn’t mean, however, that he was ready to accept the hard truths his wife fed to him. He had grown used to the barbs from his brother, from others at court - the euphemism and implication, but there was only one person to whom he had admitted their truth, and that was Loras himself. Adding to the count seemed dangerous, regardless of Margaery’s perceived trustworthiness.
The bright anger that flashed in the queen’s eyes did not go unnoticed by the youngest Baratheon, even from his vantage across the cavernous room. Some part of him was relieved to find that the Tyrell girl could feel anger, she so often appeared immovable and passive, a smooth, beautiful statue, rather than a woman. It was almost inhumane, and in such contrast to the lively nature of her brother. But, he had seen it - the emotion-, and that was good.
As the woman drew near, her gown cut to nigh to the navel, her pale skin glowing in the faint light of the fire, her hair a brown halo, Renly’s heart quickened its pace. It rattled and shook. It beat, thump, thump, thump, against his ribcage. Surely even Margaery could hear its tattoo. Still, he kept the half-smirk pasted to his lips and allowed himself to look bemused as his hand was lead to the queen’s breast. Of his own volition, he slipped his free arm around her waist, the narrow thing that it was.
In his mind, he told himself he was holding Loras. His sister felt soft in the king’s hands, so unlike the whip-thin, but well-muscled frame of Renly’s lover. Margaery was all curves and yielding flesh. Her breast felt strange in his hand and he wasn’t sure if he ought do more than just hold it. He didn’t want to cause her pain, after all. Sucking in air through his teeth, he looked down at his wife, careful to keep the discomfort from his face. He had words - teasing words - on his lips, but the moment Margaery kissed him, he forgot them. The silky feel of her mouth on his was disarming. Loras, pretty as he was, was a demanding lover. He was not so... so... impressible.
There was a quiet moment as husband and wife embraced, his arm around her. He couldn’t say he wasn’t at least enjoying the warmth their bodies made together. But, then a small touch of panic fluttered into Renly’s chest, quiet at first. It threw itself against his sternum. His eyes opened wide and he broke free from Margaery, stumbling backward a handful of steps until he hit the bed. His hand still felt warm where it had rested on the girl’s breast. His chest rising and falling rapidly with every shallow breath he sucked in, he shook his head. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, trying so hard to find something to say. He couldn’t do this. He had to, and yet he couldn’t. What had he been thinking? The marriage deal had been struck, and he had to finish what he’d started. He knew that, he did. But - what about Loras? Renly put his face in his hands.